Misdemeanors
by Sanqhian
Summary: Speed feels that his life is out of control. With the addition of Ryan to the team, it's like his own friends no longer need him. But things must get worse before they get better. [slash]
1. Intro

**Title: **Misdemeanors

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

**POV: **Speed

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Intro**

The wind ruffles my hair. I snap a photo of a blood pool that has stained the cement. It is only ten in the morning and already we have a crime scene. People move to Florida to retire and enjoy the sunshine. Not to die before they get to eat lunch. I close my eyes as the wind sweeps the leaves into a frenzied dance. The sun does feel warm today. A stronger gust of wind nearly knocks me from me feet and I open my eyes. A few feet away I hear Delko swear. The offshore hurricane may not be heading our way but the high winds are enough to mess things up.

I turn to look at my co-work. He's bent over the body of our deceased, the only victim in a mysterious crime. Our boss walks over to him with a small clear bag in hand. I smile. The gust of wind must have taken Delko by surprise, thus ripping the bag from his grip. He takes the bag from Horatio and smiles a thank-you. Calleigh, my closest female friend, is working a few feet away from Delko. She's busy trying to write on a piece of paper but the wind isn't being very helpful. Typical weather for Florida.

Horatio standing beside Detective Tripp next time I look his way. Tripp has out his notebook and is most likely telling H what facts he's gotten from the small amount of witnesses in the area. It's always funny how tons of people are willing to admit they saw an embarrassing act happen to someone; but when a crime happens, everyone goes blind. On the opposite side of the police cruiser that H is standing near, Detective Hagen is busy talking on the phone. Whatever the topic of conversation it is clear that Hagen is not happy. Life goes on. At least he's not lying on the pavement dead to the world.

Delko's laugh is a bit off. No one should cry at a crime scene. I looked over my buddy trying to figure out what he held to be so funny. In his hands is a small black leather wallet. Being the truly curious person I am, I stroll over to see what has tickled his funny bone.

"Don't let H catch you laughing," I remark. "He may be an easy-going guy, but he'll see this as disrespectful; especially with people wondering about."

Delko shakes his head. "I know, man. At the time I couldn't help myself. Here, see for yourself," he says as he hands me the wallet.

I try my best to suppress a laugh as my eyes graze over the wallet. The license inside identifies the victim as one Miss Slovesky. I giggle. Calleigh stops by my side to read over my shoulder. I guess the little exchange between Delko and I had not gone unnoticed by everyone.

She frowns. "How interesting. How very interesting."

"What is so interesting that it's keeping my best CSI's from doing their jobs?" Horatio asks.

Calleigh is the only one who doesn't jump at the sound of his voice. She hands him the wallet. "I think the case just got a bit more mysterious. Where did this wallet come from?"

"Miss Slovesky," Horatio reads. "Well, either our victim had a sex change or this isn't his wallet. Is this the only identification found on the guy?"

Delko nods. "Yep. The only other item in his pockets is a set of car keys. He doesn't even have any spare change. And there's no cash in the wallet."

"That kind of rules out pick-pocketing," Calleigh says.

"Not really," I voice. "Maybe he took the wallet and was unhappy to find there wasn't any money. Perhaps he got killed trying to beat up this Miss Slovesky."

"Guess work may keep the brain fresh but it doesn't solve the case," Horatio says. "Continue looking for evidence. I'm going to see if Hagen is done with his personal call and willing to help out with crowd control."

I shrug. "Back to work. I'm sure the jokes will be flying later, though."

Delko resumes retrieving trace from the victim. Calleigh takes baby steps around the body looking for bullet casings. Unless someone picked them up they should be nearby. I begin to take photographs of the quickly disappearing crowd. Hagen is doing a great job at crowd control. Threatening to arrest people for loitering is a good way to go; although it's not the best. I snap a photo. And then another. A drop of water hits the lens of my camera. My eyes instantly turn to the sky. The once blue sky has turned a rather ugly shade of gray-black.

"Oh, shit," I mutter.

The crime is about to be washed away with a freak noontime storm. Florida is well known for having a high rate of lightning strikes. More than three-hundred-and-fifty people have been killed by lightning in the state and over a thousand others have been injured. I turn to yell at my co-workers about the impending rain but the heavens beat me to it.

A loud clap of thunder shakes the ground before the clouds let loose. Rain pours down in sheets. Delko grabs up his evidence bags and runs for the shelter of a building overhang. Calleigh is right behind him. Tripp and Horatio act fast and grab a tarp from the back of the crime Hummer. They toss it over the body before they too head for the overhang. I begin to follow them. Horatio won't be happy about me being out in the rain. It was only a month ago that I had been shot and nearly killed. My immune system is still recovering. Getting soaked and catching chill would be enough to make me sick.

Lightning flashes across the sky. The unexpected sudden burst of color makes me jump. I nearly drop the camera. I manage to reach the team before the next roll of thunder is heard. Delko giggles as he wrings out his T-shirt. My mood is heavier. Nothing like the rain to ruin a crime scene. It washes away all the evidence. I turn and look at the tarp covered body. Lightning flashes across the sky again. In the wake of the light I catch the shine of something metallic. A key piece of evidence? No one else seems to have noticed it. I put my camera on the ground.

Calleigh yells my name as I run toward the street. The rain starts to fall harder and I can hardly see the road. I pass under the yellow crime scene tape as it bounces in the wind. Another flash of lightning. Again, I see the shine of something metallic. It's near the center of the street. I take a step toward it.

Horatio yells my name. I turn to look back at him but can barely see him. He's become just a shadow in the falling water. My attention returns to the task at hand. I take a few more steps until I see the object. By now everyone is yelling my name. What is wrong with them? A noise to my left floats to my ear. It's a familiar sound but one I can't quite make out. I bend down to pick up the piece of evidence.

The sound of shoes on wet pavement force their way into my mind. Horatio grabs me by the waist and pulls me backward. I slip and stumble on the wet pavement. We both fall to the ground. The look on his face is frantic as we both try to regain our footing. Delko races out into the rain. He pulls me by the arm while Horatio finds his footing. I have no idea why they're acting so crazy. Delko gives one more good pull as I climb to my feet. I stumble into him. He braces himself and neither one of us falls. Horatio stands beside us a car goes racing through street. Right through the crime. Right over the spot I had been standing on. Just seconds later a police cruiser drives by in hot pursuit.


	2. Holding Me Down

**Title: **Misdemeanors

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

**POV: **Speed

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Chapter One: Holding Me Down**

Why does my head hurt? Why does my hand feel heavy? I rid my eyes of the sudden tiredness that overtakes me. It's only noon and I already want to go home. My ribs are sore. Sore from an old wound, or sore from my earlier stupidity? Is that why my head hurts? I flex the fingers of my left hand. They feel a bit awkward. Almost like they're going numb. What's wrong with me? I sneeze. I wipe my nose on my sleeve. I wonder if Calleigh has any aspirin to cut through the pain of my headache. I sneeze again. The soda can on the table topples over. The sound of tin hitting the floor echoes in my ears like a train horn. I shake my head. What the hell is wrong with me? I try to pick the can up with my left hand but it's not cooperating. Another sneeze hits me. The force is enough to knock me from my chair. I find myself kneeling on the floor. The soda can rolls under the table. I go to retrieve it.

"What are you doing down there?"

I whack my head on the underneath of the table. "Damn it," I swear. I come out from under the table rubbing my head with my left hand, holding the can in my right. "I dropped this," I explain.

Alexx looks at me. "Are you alright, honey?"

"For the most part. I have a headache. Do you have any aspirin?" I ask.

"Sure, I have some in my purse. I leave it in the Trace Lab for you." She pours herself a cup of coffee.

"Thank you," I say as she leaves the break room.

With a frown I throw the can in the recycling bin. The feeling in my fingertips is gone while the rest of my hand feels fine. I shrug my shoulders. Maybe it's a side affect of my headache. I sneeze. If I keep sneezing someone will hear me. They'll tell Horatio, and he'll send me home. I'm tired of being home. I'm tired of not being able to work. Why does everyone think I'm fragile? Yes, I took a bullet to the chest. Yes, it nearly killed me. But I'm still here. I'm still Speed. I'm always going to be me. So why is everyone treating me like a fragile flower? Why can't they just let me be? Treat me the way they used to?

I find the Trace Lab empty. Delko is gone. My watch tells me that it's twelve-o-five. That means that he's out having lunch. Probably with Calleigh. Why didn't they invite me? I grab the bottle of pills from the table. The aspirin goes down easily. The bottle is nearly empty so I pocket it. I'll buy Alexx a new, full bottle. She'll be happy.

There is no evidence for me to work with. It's all in the hands of other people. Technically it's also my lunch break. The door to the Trace Lab swings closed behind me as I walk down the hall. People are working all around me. Yet I don't see any of my team members. Not even Horatio. Hagen and Tripp are probably out to lunch. Or they could be off doing interviews.

I stop in front of some windows. The day is sunny once again. All traces of the earlier ran storm have dried up. You can't even tell that it happened. The sun beaming through the windows is warm on my skin, my dry clothes. I cross my arms as my headache dulls in pain. I close my eyes to enjoy the warmth of the sun. It fills me with a feeling of love. Of belonging. Things I haven't felt since that day. Nothing has been the same since that damn day. A sneeze comes along and ruins my mood.

Someone places a hand on my shoulder. "Getting a cold after your little stunt this morning?"

I turn to look at Horatio. He stands beside me, gazing out the window, his hands on his hips. "I'm fine, it's probably just some dust. People sneeze all the time. Doesn't mean they're getting sick," say. Why do I sound so defensive? Is it because I am?

Horatio smiles. "It's alright, Speed. I know you would tell me if something was wrong, you always do."

He looks troubled. H has been my boss for years now. We're the only two level 3 CSI's in the lab. We'd been at the job longer. Calleigh and Delko are family, Horatio and I are more. We understand each other. Sometimes words don't have to be spoken to get the message across. The other one just seems to know what needs to be done. Like a well oiled machine, we work together smoothly. Except for this morning. I know that Horatio had flashbacks. Seeing me, dying, holding me in his arms, telling me to hang on. I return my gaze to the bright sun.

"What's on your mind, H?" I ask.

He crosses his arms, mimicking my position. "I was going to ask you the same thing, Timothy. You haven't been acting like yourself lately."

Timothy, only H calls me that. And only when he's worried about me. Calleigh and Delko will occasionally call me Timmy. Everyone else calls me Speed. I've never understood why it is that way. Maybe I never will. Very rarely does Delko get called by his first name, and no one ever uses his last name. Calleigh's nickname, Cal, is about as popular as her name; both are used equally. Few people refer to Horatio as H; those people would be the ones he holds the closest. Others think that calling him 'H' is a sign of disrespect. I blink as a bird flies close to the window. Why am I thinking about name?

"I'm fine, you know that. Just trying to get back into the swing of things, that's all," I lie. My hand is still numb and my head still aches a bit.

"Tim, you took a big risk this morning-"

"I saw a piece of evidence. I couldn't let the rain wash it away," I defend.

Horatio smiles. He doesn't want us to argue. Something is on his mind. "I understand that. You're one of my best CSI's, Tim. I nearly lost you once and I don't want there to be a second time."

"There won't be a second time, H, and I'm sorry about the first time." Will I be apologizing for my mistakes the rest of my life? So I fucked up, doesn't everyone?

"This morning was the second time, Timothy. If Tripp and Hagen hadn't been standing with us, we never would have heard the officer's call for back-up. We never would have known that car was coming. You would have become part of the crime scene, Tim, and I can't have that."

"What are you saying, Horatio?" I ask. This time I concentrate on watching him.

"You're getting too risky, Tim. You can't be risky in this line of work. Risks get you killed-"

"Would you just say what is on your mind? I wasn't born yesterday, H. I know you better than anyone else."

He rubs a hand over his mouth. "I've been told by the higher-ups that you need to go. That they want you out of the lab. They think that you're a liability. I convinced them to give you one more chance. On one condition…"

I frown. "And what would that condition be? That I don't screw up again?" My voice is a bit louder than I like. Anger does that to me. It does it to everyone. Is my oldest friend about to fire me?

"Tim-"

At that moment a young man walks up to us. He's wearing a big smile and appears way too cheery to be in this lab. I bit my tongue to keep from being rude. This young kid shouldn't be interrupting us. It's rude. What right does he have to just walk around like this? The families aren't allowed in this area. How did he get pass security?

The kid waves at me. "Hi, I'm Ryan Wolfe. I'll be working with you." He sticks out his hand, expecting me to shake it.

I look at Horatio and know that he can read the hurt, anger, and disbelief written all over my face. Without another word I turn to walk away. I guess this is the one condition; my friend backstabbing me. I wish that I hadn't made it. I wish that I had died that day; and it's not the first time those thoughts cross my mind. They probably won't be the last.


	3. Laugh at my Pain

**Title: **Misdemeanors

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

**POV: **Speed

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**Chapter Two: Laugh at my Pain**

I hang my lab coat on the hook in my locker. The day shift is finally over. In two hours the sun will be down and the crimes will start. Tomorrow my morning will start earlier than that of everyone else. I'll get a call which will rouse me from my delightful sleep. This is my work; this is how I live my life. I sit on the cracked wooden bench that runs between the lockers. Somehow I managed to get through the rest of the day without seeing Ryan. I believe that Horatio spent the day avoiding me.

Why does my oldest and dearest friend think that I need a babysitter? Yes, I know that I fucked up this morning. I got the evidence though, didn't I? That piece of evidence could break the case. Or at least help along those lines. No one was going to shoot me. Sure, that guy would have hit me with his car but I would have heard the car and moved. Wouldn't I have? I shake my head.

"Stop kidding yourself, Tim," I mumble. "That guy was going to hit you and turn you into a human speed bump."

"Do you talk to yourself often?" A voice calls out the shadows.

"Don't sneak up on me," I snap at Delko as he walks to his locker. "I don't want to have to tell Horatio you're trying to give me heart failure. He wouldn't be too happy to hear that."

Delko chuckles. "If you die because of me, who will I torture?"

"How about the new guy?" I say as I change my sneakers.

"What about him? His name is Ryan, right?" He looks at me. I nod. "I don't know him that well. Only talked to him when Horatio introduced us. He seems a bit young, but then again, we were all young at one time."

"Who you calling old?" Calleigh asks as she breezes into the locker room.

"Who else? Timmy," Delko jokes. Calleigh giggles as she pops her locker door open.

I stand up to fish through the stuff in my locker. There are two pairs of extra clothing in it. I learned a long time ago that you can never have too many outfits to change into at work. You can get covered in blood, mud, waste, and so many other things. The shirt I'm currently wearing could have been turned into evidence any time during the day. I pull a black button-down shirt from the metal box. The pain in my chest shoots through me like a bullet from a gun. I gasp in pain.

"You okay man?" Delko asks with concern in his voice.

"Just fine. I moved too fast, that's all. Probably stretched my arm the wrong way," I lie.

Calleigh peeks around the door to her locker. "Speaking of the new guy, I think we should get to know him better. If he's going to be part of this team we should include him in our little group outings."

I shake my head as I ran a hand through my hair before straightening my shirt. "You didn't invite him to the club tonight, did you?"

She shrugs. "I'm sorry, Speed, I thought it would be a nice gesture. Horatio would want us to make an effort in getting to know Ryan."

"She has a point," Delko chimes in. "Plus, we work like a well-oiled machine. If we don't get to know Ryan than there's a missing bolt in our little machine. I don't know about you but I want to know I can trust the guy."

"Fine, whatever," I mutter.

We finish changing into our off-duty clothes. The club we're going to tonight is called The Neon River. I never understood the reasoning behind giving clubs odd names. We usually end up at The Neon River. Probably because it's law enforcement friendly. Cops, detectives, criminalists and so on get a special rate; which includes getting in for free. No ten dollar cover charge for me. As we head to the elevator Calleigh starts talking about the music and how she wants to dance away her memories of the day. Each one of us has a way of dealing with the violence we experience at work. Calleigh goes dancing or out to the shooting range. Delko hangs out with his sister. As for me, I usually sit in the dark and brood over the deaths of innocent people. Occasionally I'll work on my motorcycle. Horatio has Madison and her mom to think about. Every victim becomes his responsibility. The poor guy never does anything fun. Calleigh still invites him to go clubbing with us even though she knows he'll say no.

The doors to the elevator are about to close when Ryan squeezes his way through them. He smiles at Calleigh and Delko. His eyes rest on me. I turn my gaze away. This guy will never replace me at the lab. He's too young and something in his eyes bothers me. Maybe it's the way he keeps looking at me.

"Have you ever been to the club we're going to tonight, Ryan?" Calleigh ask.

"No, I admit that I haven't really been to a lot of clubs," he replies. Finally he shifts his gaze off me.

Delko chuckles. "The girls are going to love you man. Nothing like fresh meat to make them excited."

The new recruit smiles. "That's interesting to hear. I'm not really looking into hooking up with anyone though. Kind of want to get situated first."

"Promise me you'll dance one dance with me?" Calleigh asks as she takes his arm.

"I'm not much of a dancer but I guess it won't be a problem."

Once we're outside I part ways from them to head for my bike. I promise to meet them at the club. They'll probably all ride in Delko's truck. Good for them, let them bond and get real close. I bought a motorcycle because I like being alone. I like feeling the wind as a cruise along the highway. It's almost like I'm free from the ties that bind.

I make it to the club first. The bouncer nods at me. I return the gesture with a wave. People standing in line in front of the building look toward me. Probably trying to figure out what's so special about me. Delko shows up next, Calleigh and Ryan close behind. Just like I speculated they took Delko's truck. As a group we approach the bouncer. Even though the guy knows us well we still have to flash our badges. He lets us pass. I can see the envy in the eyes of all the people standing in line. Calleigh drags Ryan off to the dance floor as soon as we're through the door.

"Poor sap," Delko says.

Together we seek out a table. Delko waves to Calleigh so that she knows where to find us. The waitress comes to take our orders. I order a soda while Delko gets a beer. I've never been into drinking. Not in my line of work. I've seen what happens to people who drink too much. When the song ends Calleigh and Ryan join us. They order drinks; some weird mixed drink for Calleigh and a soda for Ryan. I can't help but be a little paranoid that he's trying to be just like me. Trying to make it easier for everyone else when he takes my place.

We stay for hours while Calleigh dances. Like gentleman we each dance with her once, Delko dances with her more than anyone. This of course leaves me to sit with Ryan, alone. He tries to make conversation but I ignore him. I don't care if I'm acting childish. I feel like I'm being given the brush off. This really isn't fair.

When the latest song ends Delko and Calleigh return to the table, both winded and a little sweaty. "I'm going to take Calleigh home, you ready to leave Ryan?"

I notice how his gaze shifts to me for a second. "Nah, I'll take a cab. You guys go right on a head."

"Are you sure?" Calleigh asks.

"Yes," he nods. "It's been fun. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

The two of them disappear into the massive crowd. I throw some money on the table as a tip for the waitress and get up to leave. Instead of heading for the front door I opt to go out back. Less people bugging me about getting into the club. I hear Ryan following behind me. He really has some nerve. I step out into the lit alley and head for my motorcycle. Maybe I can get out of here before he bugs me.

"Hey, Speed, wait," he yells. Too late for me to get away.

I turn to him. "Only my friends have the right to call me Speed."

He comes to a stop in front of me. "Why can't I be your friend?"

"Because you're trying to replace me. That's what you were hired for, isn't it?" I place a hand to my forehead. The throbbing headache is back. The aspirin that Alexx loaned me is back in my locker.

"I'm not here to replace you," he states. "Horatio hired me so that you could keep your job."

"I don't know about you but I would be bugged if someone hired me for that reason." I turn around to continue heading for my ride. The last thing I want to do is listen to this guy.

"Tim, I'm sorry you feel this way," he calls after me.

I don't turn around. My headache is getting worse and I just want to get home and go to bed. As I reach for the keys in my pocket I realize that I've lost the feeling in my left hand again; and this time it's my whole hand, not just the fingertips. My vision blurs as a dizzy spell hits me. The last thing I really remember about the night is someone screaming for help. That, and someone's hand on my chest. I wanted to tell that person to move their hand, they were pressing on my old gunshot wound but the words never came…


	4. Hide My Shame

**Title: **Misdemeanors

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

**POV: **Speed

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**Chapter Three: Hide my Shame**

Someone pats my forehead with a damp cloth. A hand goes to my throat. The fingers are cool and the touch is soft and gentle. I moan as the world slowly comes back to me. The pain in my head throbs at a low frequency. My hand flutters to the wet cloth on my forehead. The hand moves from my throat.

"You can open your eyes, you know. The lighting is dim. It shouldn't bother you," a male voice says.

The voice sounds familiar. The night rushes back to me. Going to the club with Calleigh and Delko. The new guy, Ryan, tagged along. There was much dancing and a fair amount of drinking. Delko had left first, to take Calleigh home and then to go home himself. That left me with the new guy. I remember getting up from the table. I remember walking out the back door. I remember arguing with Ryan as he followed me. After that everything gets fuzzy.

I open my eyes to the world. The subtle light in the room sends a shock of pain to my head. I squint until my eyes adjust to the faint light. I feel the smooth leather of the couch underneath me. The couch in my apartment isn't leather, and last time I checked it was covered in forensic journals and various scientific books. This isn't my apartment.

"Where the hell-"

"You're at my place," Ryan says as he returns to the room. In his hand is a glass of water. He places it on a coffee table before perching on the edge of the couch. There's not enough room for him to sit on the couch without touching me.

I shudder. "Why am I here?"

"I didn't know what else to do," he replies. He leans over and removes the washcloth from my head. "You passed out in the parking lot of the club. I figured you had too much to drink so I called a cab and brought you to my place."

"Too much to drink? I was only drinking soda," I state.

"I remembered that half way home. Then I started worrying about head injuries, you know. I mean, you were in the parking lot and you did fall. Does your head hurt a lot? Should I take you to the hospital?" He asks.

I massage my temple. "I'll be fine. No need to take me to the hospital. Probably just a bruise. Don't worry about it. Meanwhile, what did you do with my motorcycle?"

"I left it at the club," he says. "I didn't know what else to do with it."

I roll my eyes. "At least it's at a club where they have security."

I try to sit up. Ryan looks panicked and places his hands on my shoulders. "You should be resting."

With irritation I shove his hands away. "Don't baby me. I don't even like you."

He gets up and walks away. With him off the couch I can sit up. The room spins for a few minutes then it steadies. I rest my head on the back of the couch and close my eyes. There is a throbbing behind my left ear and my fingertips feel numb again. The couch shifts under the weight of Ryan as he sits beside me.

"I thank you for taking care of me but please, just leave me alone. If you give me my cell phone I can call Delko to pick me up."

"It's one-thirty in the morning; do you really want to wake him up at this time? Wouldn't that be rude?" Ryan asks.

"It would be better than staying here," I say.

Ryan flinches. "Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you?" He stands with his arms folded across his chest and his back to me. "Oh, I see, you're still hung up on that stupid idea that I'm taking over your job." He turns back to face me. "All I ever heard about was how great Speedle was and how hard Speedle worked. I expected to work with a great Criminalist. Instead I find that the all mighty Speedle is a cry-baby."

Anger bites me in the ass and I stand up to face him. I ignore the temporary spinning of the room as I stare him in the eyes. "I am not a cry-baby. I have put my life into my work and they bring you along, some juvenile, to replace me. I think I have a right to be mad."

"You're acting downright childish, Timothy," he remarks.

"Don't ever call me that," I snap.

The anger grows and the air between us sizzles and snaps with the tension. How can Horatio expect me to work with this sniveling little twerp? It hurts that my boss and closest friend would betray me this way. It hurts even more that my two co-workers and friends like him. Am I really this easy to replace? As the anger boils I feel the urge to strike out at the younger man. The only people I've ever wanted to hit are criminals; specifically those involved in child porn.

The younger man makes a move. One minute we're standing there staring at each other. The next thing I know he's kissing me. All I can feel are his lips on mine. The kiss is long and filled with a desire that only Ryan is seeking to fulfill. I shove the younger man away.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I snap.

"I….I…." he stammers.

I grab my cell phone from the coffee table and head for the door. Ryan doesn't follow me and that's probably a good thing. Outside his apartment I wipe a hand across my mouth. It disgusts me how he thought it was okay to kiss me. I shudder as I remember the feel of his lips on mine. It's wrong, so wrong. As I walk down the stairs and step out onto the street I flip open my phone to call Delko. But before I can finish dialing the number I find myself filled with doubt. How will Delko react to finding me outside Ryan's home? Will he laugh? Joke? Will he remain quiet while unpleasant thoughts run through his head? I put the phone in my pocket. The night air is cool on my skin. The walk home will take too long so I decided to walk a block or two before calling a cab. The farther away I get from Ryan's apartment the better.

No one can ever find out about this. Ryan will keep his mouth shut. He has to or he'll risk harassment in his new place of work. Anyway, it's not like it's going to happen again.


	5. Losing My Place

**Title: **Misdemeanors

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

**POV: **Speed

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**Chapter Four: Losing My Place**

The night had been rough to me. I couldn't sleep as well as I usually did. I know it's because of the…I shudder as the action plays out in my mind. I spent the entire night twisting and turning. My covers were on the floor when I awoke this morning. Though I find myself tired I still feel the need to be at work. Sure, I could have called in sick, Horatio would have understood. That would just give him more reason to keep Ryan around. That I couldn't settle for. So I came to work. Tired and moody.

"Boy, you look like death warmed over," Delko says as he comes up behind me in the Trace Lab.

I'm sure I do. I give him a look that stops him in his tracks. "That's what happens when you don't sleep well, you end up looking like hell and everyone in their right mind has to stop and comment on that one fact. Have you any idea how annoying that is?"

Delko sits on the stool beside me to start his work. "Gees, Speed, I was just making an observation, no need to be moody about it. What's wrong, you stay out too late last night? I thought you didn't like Ryan."

"I don't like him," I reply as I slide a trace substance under the microscope. "That's why I left after you did. I just didn't sleep well, that's all. It happens."

"Maybe your sodas were spiked," he joked.

I glare at him. "Just let it go, would you?"

He shrugs before moving on to find whoever he needs to talk to for his case. I don't care. The silence of the lab is just what I need after a sleepless night. The day passes fast for me as I identify trace substance after trace substance. This has to show Horatio that I'm good at my job and he can send Ryan packing. The sooner the younger CSI is gone the happier I'll be. My watch beeps while I'm in the middle of looking at some weird green ooze found on the dead body from the other day. I can't help but wonder if Delko has made an ID on the body or if Tripp has located the real Miss Slovesky.

I stretch my neck from side to side and reach for the sky with arms while letting out a big yawn. The time for lunch has come. My stomach growls as I stand from my stool. No one has bothered me since this morning's conversation with Delko. Normally I would be thinking that he told everyone I was in a bad mood but than I'd have been visited by Horatio, and I haven't been. Maybe they're all busy. I walk down the halls toward the break room. All the people I pass are busy with their work and their own cases. I don't even know half of them anymore.

As I walk down the halls I think of the new layout and all the work that had been done. I hate the new lab. Sure, it was brighter and looked more open. But I missed the way it used to be. I was comfortable with the old layout and the feeling of being locked away from the world. That's a feeling I got along great with. Now all the walls are glass and you can into everything without having to enter a room. It's as though I work in a fishbowl. At least the bathrooms still have solid walls.

The break room door is open. Alexx breezes out with a soda in hand. She gives me a wave as she heads back to the morgue. I see Delko sitting at the table flipping through a magazine and eating a sandwich. He takes a sip of his juice as I enter the room. He looks at me with wary eyes.

"What you reading?" I ask hoping that I don't sound mean or annoyed in any way.

"Just one of the many forensic journals they insist on keeping in here," he replies after swallowing.

"Look," I start as I pull a bottle of ice water from the fridge, "I'm sorry about this morning."

Delko shrugs. "It's okay, buddy. I should have been a bit more sensitive."

"More sensitive about what?" Calleigh asks as she waltzes into the room with Ryan on her heels. Why must everyone take lunch at the same time? It used to be fun to lunch together and catch up on the morning. Now Ryan has come along to ruin my once peaceful existence.

"Speed had a rough night," Delko says. He wipes his hands on a napkin now that he's finished with his sandwich. I sit down beside him and put my feet up on the chair to my other side so that Ryan can't sit near me.

Calleigh sits across from us with a salad and a juice. Ryan sits beside her with a soda and a small bag of chips. He flashes a smile in my direction. There's no worry in his eyes. He doesn't care if they know about last night and the kiss. Meanwhile I feel like I'm going to throw-up.

"Oh, too much partying?" Calleigh asks me.

I shake my head. "I think I was just due for a bad night. It happens to all of us."

Ryan pops a chip in his mouth. "You sure it wasn't something else that kept you up? Maybe you were having dreams. Do you remember dreaming anything?"

"How could I be dreaming if I wasn't sleeping?" I snap.

He shrugs and we all fall into a silence. This never happened when it was just Delko, Calleigh, and I. Ryan is throwing off our groove. He's ruining what once was a well oiled machine. Horatio won't keep him around when he sees how Ryan is affecting the work in the lab. The relationship between the three of us is what made us great CSI's and what kept our success rate up. Ryan needed to go.

"Oh my god, Ryan, are those Chili Frito's?" Calleigh asks breaking the silence.

He nods in response and offers the open bag of chips to her. "Want one?"

"You bet I do. I haven't had these in ages. They're way too addicting."

She grabs a chip from the bag and pops it in her mouth. Ryan offers the bag to Delko, who also reaches in for some chips. I stand up and walk over to the recycling bin before he can offer me any. Too bad for me that H picks that moment to enter the break room. I feel his eyes on my back before I even turn to look at him. He doesn't look happy with me. Well, screw him; this is his doing, not mine. I didn't hire Ryan to replace my best friend, he did that.

"Everything okay, Timmy?" He questions.

"Just fine, boss," I say with more edge than I mean to. "Just finishing up here and returning to work. If that's okay with you."

I see just the hint of pain in his eyes as the words reach his ears. Before the silence can envelope us all in its uncomfortable embrace I make an exit of the room. They start to talk as soon as I leave. Lucky for me the break room is near the lockers and they share a solid wall. I stand outside the door where no one can see me and listen in to their conversation. In the beginning it's all small chit-chat and nothing else. That is, until Horatio stabs me in the back again. At first I'm happy to hear that he's removing Ryan from the case of the unknown dead guy. That happiness is short lived as I hear him assign the young CSI to a high profile case; the killing of a judge's daughter.

Before I can hear anymore I head back to the Trace Lab. I really don't want to hear Horatio hand my life over to a younger guy. Am I really that replaceable? Delko doesn't seem to mind Ryan, and Calleigh seems attracted to him. Now my work gets handed to him. That case should be mine. I've been here longer. As much as I want the bad guy behind bars I find myself wishing for Ryan to screw up.


	6. Assault on an Officer

**Title:** Misdemeanors

**Disclaimer:** Language, violence, angst, and slash.

**POV:** Speed

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Chapter Five: Assault on an Officer

The sun dawns on another bright Miami day. Why does the sun have to shine so often in a state with such violent crimes? A killer has been murdering woman in Daytona Beach. Florida is popular for retiring. Old people get robbed every single day. They're easy targets. I pull the Hummer up to a small condo. The lawn is immaculately kept and the house looks as though it could have been built yesterday. Everything is perfect, so perfect that I feel out of place. I'm always out of place. No one should have to have a CSI and a police car pull up in front of their house.

I grab my kit and head for the front door. A uniformed officer follows a few steps behind. Bad things have been happening to CSI's that we've worked with before. Nick Stokes, out at the Nevada crime lab, got abducted from a faked scene. Danny Messer of New York is currently being questioned about a murder that old acquaintances say he committed. I'd like to say that Horatio runs a tight ship- he does- but there's a mole in our lab who keeps leaking valuable information. Being a CSI is definitely not a glamorous job.

The door opens before I reach it. Another officer steps aside as I walk into the foyer. The white tile floor shines with a recent moping. Every little piece of furniture in sight is placed in just the right spot. I get the feeling that I've walked in on someone who has Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. The one thing that the owner didn't account for was the dead body, their dead body. The owner, a small frail old lady, lay stomach down on the beige carpet of the living room. A semi-dry pool of red-brown blood stains the carpet around here. I crouch down by the body and place an ungloved on her neck. She's ice cold to the touch.

I put on my gloves and start collecting evidence. After yesterday I've been removed from the John Doe case. Horatio says it's because of my attitude toward Ryan. I'm not allowed to have problems in my life? I know that I've changed since returning to work. I used to be a great friend who was always there for my friends, a hard worker, and a general all-around good guy. The type of guy you'd want your sister to marry. But I got shot. I came back to work to find everyone ready to replace me with a younger version of me. Doesn't that give me the right to be angry?

I continue to bag evidence when a voice from behind startles me. "Having any luck there buddy boy?"

I bite my tongue to chase away the rude words that are ready to explode from my mouth. "Why the hell are you here, Ryan? Don't you have a judge's son to take care of?"

"Not anymore," he replies setting his case on the floor within my range of view. "The guy's roommate confessed to the crime. He was pissed that his best friend stole his girlfriend. There's always a touch of love when a crime is committed. Anyway," he sighs, "Horatio sent me over to help you out."

"I don't need your help," I snap. "I have processed more scenes on my own then you can imagine."

Ryan crouches on the other side of the body. "I don't think he sent me over to supervise you, Speedle. From my point of view it sounds like he worries about you. He just wants us to get along. Get over it, I'm staying here. You can either get used to working with me or you can, well, you can grow up and take it like it is," he finishes.

"Make yourself useful and go check the other rooms," I grumble. "I can handle the body by myself."

He stands. "Was that so hard? See, we can work together."

He grabs his kit and disappears from the room. His sneakers cause squeaks on the tile floor. Shaking my head I grab a white paper-like square from the victim with a pair of tweezers and slip it into an evidence bag. With my small flashlight I inspect the hands. There's evidence of defense wounds so I tape bags over her hands to protect whatever is under her nails. I always feel a bit better about a victim when I know that they fought back. Who in their right mind would die a violent death willingly?

Leaving the body I begin to process the room. A side window is propped open with a chunk of wood; my possible point of entry. I dust the window and windowsill for fingerprints. There's nothing. I remove the wood and the window slides shut. The elderly lady probably wanted some fresh air and used the wood to keep the window open. That doesn't explain why the screen is missing. I photograph the window in detail. Maybe I'm missing something. I continue on in my hunt for any evidence I can find. A pen under the coffee table catches my eye. In this dust-free house the pen seems oddly out of place under the table. Eyeing the notepad by the phone sitting on a table to the left of the couch I suspect that that is where the pen belongs. I bend down to pick it up. Under the glow of my mini-flashlight I see spots of blood. There's no need to test it so I just bag it.

An hour has passed since I first got here and Alexx still hasn't shown up to transport the body to the lab. I also haven't heard much from Ryan since he left for the kitchen. A sickening feeling begins to grow in the pit of my stomach. Through the window I can see one cop keeping the spectators behind the yellow crime scene tape that dances in the cool breeze. The cop that had been inside in the same room as me is not at his post. Perhaps he's looking after Ryan, thinking that I'll be safe. I should feel happy that the cop is more concerned with the rookie than he is with me; as I've said, something feels wrong. It's like a storm cloud hangs over my head waiting to strike me down with its lightning.

I make my way to the kitchen entrance and stop when I hear the officer inside talking to Ryan.

"I heard they fired your from your job as a cop," the officer says.

"Wasn't fired," Ryan replies. "I wanted to change careers and Horatio helped me out."

"That's not what I heard," the cop continues. "I heard that you're a fag and that you got caught making out with a guy. An officer that you used to work with says that your captain was eager to get rid of you."

"Would you mind leaving me alone so that I can do my job?"

"I don't like working with gays. In my opinion they don't make good cops. The best thing you can do is quit your job," the officer presses.

"Please get out of my personal space," Ryan asks.

"Why should I fag?"

"Your hurting my arm, let me go," Ryan protests.

I step around the corner to find the officer holding Ryan by the upper left arm. Something in the young CSI's eyes makes me feel sorry for him. This is the guy that has been hired to replace me, to keep an eye on me and I feel sorry for him. Maybe it's because I don't agree with what the officer is saying. My closest friend in high school had been gay, most importantly he had been human. Now he's dead because of an "accident". I don't know why it happens the way it does but I do remember standing in the doorway. Then I hit the officer with my fist, forcing him to release Ryan. The officer stumbles back into the counter.

He sneers at me. "You got a nice punch. Why you sticking up for this guy? You his boyfriend?"

I hit him again. Ryan stands beside me yelling something in my direction. I don't hear the words. All I feel is the officer who I hold against the counters. I pull my arm back to hit him again when a pair of hands grabs me and spins me around. The officer from outside must have heard Ryan shouting and come to figure out what the problem was. He gives me a mixed look of surprise and anger.

He turns me around and pulls my hands behind my back. "I'm sorry about this but I have to do my job," he says. "Timothy Speedle, you're under arrest for assaulting an officer."

I close my eyes as the officer locks the handcuffs around my wrists. Horatio is not going to like hearing about this little incident.


	7. Shooting You

**Title:** Misdemeanors

**Disclaimer:** Language, violence, angst, and slash.

**POV:** Speed

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Chapter Six: Shooting You

I sit with my hands handcuffed in the silence of the interrogation room. The officer was kind enough to remove my handcuffs and cuff my hands in the front. It may have been a nice gesture but I know that right now he's talking to Horatio, telling him all about the incident at the crime scene. The cop deserved what he got if you ask me. The annoying thing is that I don't care for Ryan and yet, here I am, in big trouble, because of him. How does that work out? I fidget in the seat. Never before have I noticed how uncomfortable these chairs are. Usually I'm on the good side of interrogation. When you're asking the important questions you never worry about the chair you're sitting in.

The door opens and Horatio walks in, a look of disappointment on his face. There's a folder in his hands, the typical case folder. He sits opposite of me without saying a word. I look away from his incriminating gaze. The folder is opened and he slides it across the table for me to see. I take a tentative glance. There are pictures of the officer I went after and the bruises that I left behind. I push the folder back in Horatio's direction.

"I don't know what to say about this, Speed," he says.

"I'm not going to deny that I did it, H. I did it and I know that I'm in trouble." My voice sounds hollow and dry.

"The officer explained things. He says that you attacked him for no apparent reason. I can't have a loose cannon on my team. You do know that this is going to reflect badly on you and you'll most likely go on suspension, unless they decide to fire you," he explains.

I sigh. "I can't believe that after all these years you're going to believe that officer instead of your friend. Do you know how that hurts, Horatio? Do you not even want to hear my side of things?"

"Of course I want to hear your side of the story, Speed," he rubs the back of his neck. "However, you need to realize that this guy has been on the force longer than you. He's received medals for his bravery. The evidence isn't telling us much. This case is going to become a he-said-he-said, and you know how those play out."

I nod. "Look, this is what happened. I got to the scene, Ryan showed up about twenty minutes later. I processed the body and the living room after sending him to check the other rooms. After an hour of eerie silence I went to check on the rookie," I explain. "I stopped at the kitchen entrance when I heard the officer talking to Ryan. Only they weren't talking, the officer was being extremely unfriendly toward Ryan."

"Unfriendly how?" Horatio interrupts.

"He was trash talking Ryan," I simplify. "Now, I wasn't going to get into because I admit, I liked hearing him get put in his place. Then the officer said some things that I didn't agree with and it got me thinking. When I heard Ryan ask the guy to move out of his personal space I decided to enter the room and put an end to the problem. That's when the officer grabbed Ryan and held his arm too tightly. After that I guess I sort of snapped."

Horatio frowns. "You're saying that the officer grabbed onto CSI Wolfe?" I nod. "Hm, funny, he never brought that up."

At that moment the door to the interrogation room flies open. Ryan comes in with a smile on his face. He reminds me of the cat that ate the canary. It makes me sick to see him so happy while I'm sitting here in handcuffs.

"Ryan, this is private, you need to leave the room," Horatio says patiently.

"I'm sorry, H, but this is important. I hope that you will hear me out."

"Ryan-"

Ryan rolls up the sleeve of his shirt. There, right above his elbow, is a nasty looking bruise that's distinctly shaped like hand. Horatio stands to get a better look at the bruise. Anger flashes in his eyes as he runs his fingers over the reddish marks. Ryan winces in pain.

"So it is true what Speed said. The officer assaulted you first," Horatio muses.

"Yes," Ryan confirms. "Though I don't agree with how Speed went about things I'm glad that he did. Officer Barq was threatening me."

"Go get Calleigh or Delko to photograph this bruise in detail," he says to Ryan. Ryan smiles again and leaves the room in a happy mood. Horatio turns to me. "I'm going to let you go about business as usual, Speed. Don't make me regret it." He waves in an officer to take the handcuffs off.

I rub my wrists after the cuffs are removed. The last I see of Horatio is of him entering the second interrogation room where Officer Barq is sitting. My stomach growls letting me know that I missed lunch because of a stupid misunderstanding. Without asking anyone I get up and leave the lab completely. I need the fresh air. Seeing that disappointment in Horatio's eyes had been nearly too much for me to take. How could he have doubted me in any way? This just confirms the worries that I've been having. Horatio doesn't trust me anymore. He really has hired Ryan to take my place.

I stop at a local burger joint to fill the empty void in my stomach. The grease of the burger and fries is too much for me and I don't finish my meal. While I'm finishing up my lemonade I think about the repercussions of my actions in that house. The only people who know what the argument was about are Ryan, the officer, and me. Ryan won't talk, neither will I; that leave us with the officer. Word's going to spread that I stood up for a gay guy. Before too long the accusations will be coming my way. This is something I wish I had thought of before acting on impulse.

I look at the Hummer parked just on the other side of the black iron railing. This is my job, my life. Standing up for victims is what I do. I've never questioned any of my actions before, so why am I doing it now? I hear the radio squawk through the open window as a call comes through. Putting down my glass I hope over the railing and open the door to the large vehicle. The few patrons at the restaurant watch me with curious looks. The waitress rushes over to make sure I don't skip out on my bill. I hold my hand up to silence her for a minute as the call comes through again.

An officer is in trouble and one has already been shot. I call it in saying that I'm on my way to the scene it's not that far away. I open my wallet to pay for my lunch when the waitress shakes her head and tells me that lunch is on her. I stare at her in disbelief. More calls come through about shooting. Now it's been upgraded to a hostage situation. No other cops are within the immediate area. I thank the waitress before hopping into the Hummer and turning on my sirens. I race out of the area to help the officer in trouble. This can make me look good in the eyes of everyone and turn around the events of this morning. I hate myself for thinking that way. This is not about reputation, this about saving lives.

I turn the corner into a warehouse district and come across another CSI issued Hummer. A cop car sits beside it. I pull up behind the two vehicles and climb out. There's no doubt that the Hummer was driven here by someone from my team. Are they the ones who got shot? How could this have happened? Was the officer not doing his job? I hear shouting and head in that direction. I turn the corner around a warehouse to find an unpleasant scene. The uniformed officer lies on the ground, a wound in his chest bleeding profusely. He doesn't appear to be breathing. A few feet away, with a gun trained on me, is a guy hyped-up on drugs. In his grasp is Ryan. The universe must be laughing at me.

"Drop your weapon," I shout at the guy, taking a few steps closer. "Other cops are on the way. Drop the gun and let's deal with this peacefully."

The guy laughs and points the gun at Ryan's head. "I've always wanted to kill cops. Cop killers get a lot of media coverage. Then I got to thinking, so do serial killers."

"So you decided to be a serial cop killer?" I ask in hopes that I can keep the man talking long enough for back-up to get here.

"Genius isn't it? That guy there," he gestures at the officer, "was so easy to take down. But this guy had to put up a fight."

Ryan squirms in an attempt to loosen the hold on him. His face is slightly red and he's probably not getting enough air. The blood on the lower right side of his white T-shirt flashes in the sun. I don't know if the blood is his or from the officer. The spot looks to large to be from blood splatter.

"You aren't going to come out of this alive," I say.

The guy shrugs. "That makes it even better. Dead people gain a lot of popularity. I'll just make sure to take out you and your buddy here before the others show up."

He points the gun at Ryan's head once again. This time he cocks it, his finger is on the trigger. In moments like this time slows down. You have to make a choice. A choice that needs to end right but can go wrong so quickly. In a flash the druggie turns his gun on me instead. The air echoes as guns are fired.


	8. Giving Back

**Title:** Misdemeanors

**Disclaimer:** Language, violence, angst, and slash.

**POV:** Speed

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Chapter Seven: Giving Back

I put a hand to the burning in my neck. The warm blood trickles slowly through my fingers. The gun slips from my hands. Why can't I ever do things right? I know the wound isn't that bad, probably just a grazing. All that matters is that I have once again been shot. I look to Ryan. He's lying on the ground, the perp underneath him. Have things gone completely wrong? With heavy steps I make my way over to them. If Ryan is dead because I shot my gun I'll lose my job. That will be fitting. I should lose my job for taking the life of another officer. Maybe Horatio is right, I've become a loose cannon.

"Give a guy a hand," Ryan asks in a raspy voice.

I relax with relief. "I thought I shot you."

"You did," he smiles.

He holds up his right arm for me to grasp. I take hold of it and pull him up. At first he staggers into me and we both nearly fall over. But he manages to regain his balance. Only then do I see the blood staining his shirt around his left shoulder. He hadn't been kidding, I'd shot him. I am I going to explain this to Horatio? I'm sure other people will take this all wrong and think that I shot Ryan on purpose. What scares me the most is that the thought crossed my mind more than once. For a split second I actually wanted to shoot my fellow CSI. This is something that I can't tell Horatio. He already has his doubts about me.

"Are you okay? You're bleeding," he states.

I rub my hand over the slight burning in my neck. "Just a graze, nothing more. I should be the one asking you if you're okay. Sorry about shooting you. At least your shoulder matches the red patch on the lower half of your shirt."

He looks down and grimaces. "Damn, that bastard managed to cut me. Must have been during our scuffle. Last time I try to take down a knife-wielding maniac with my bare hands."

"He could have shot you at close range, Ryan. Fighting that guy with your hands wasn't too bright an idea," I remark. To me my voice sounds a bit high and mighty. I should hate myself for that; I've made many mistakes lately. However, I just can't help poking fun at the new recruit.

I walk back over to pick my gun up from the pavement. Technically I should leave it where it lies. It's now part of the crime scene. Instead I place it back in the holster. Ryan isn't watching me. He's busy going over the dead guy's body. Most likely looking for a wallet. Why he wants to know the identity of the man who almost killed him bothers me. Why would you want to know? I never once cared about the guy who shot me. All I know is he's in a jail cell locked away for a few years.

"The guy doesn't have a wallet," Ryan calls. He's kneeling beside the body with a look of frustration.

"Would you get away from that guy?" I yell at him. "You're going to get your blood all over him."

"Stop whining, he already has my blood on him. See, that's what they call blood splatter. Or did you already forget that you shot me?" He makes his way over to me.

"I could have let him kill the both of us, would that have made you happy?"

He smiles. "Of course not. If he killed us I'd have no one to come back and haunt. Takes all the fun out of being dead."

I roll my eyes as he makes his way over to me. The open wound in his shoulder doesn't seem to be bothering him too much. This small fact annoys the hell out of me. My neck burns where the perp's bullet grazed. Ryan should be feeling some pain. Whether it be the bullet wound or the knife wound. He gives me a light-hearted slap on the shoulder.

"Thanks for responding to the call for help. I didn't think you cared," he says.

"I don't care. However, I will not standby and let a fellow officer get shot. There should really only be one body here. And that would be the perp's." I let Ryan read between the lines. He's not a dumb kid.

He frowns. "Any situation can get out of hand. You should know that, of all people." I glare at him. "I'm sorry the other officer died. It all just happened too fast."

"At least you lived," I say with a bit more resentment than I mean to. Ryan doesn't seem to notice.

He smiles again. "Oh come on, you're happy to see me alive and walking around. Why can't you just admit that you like having me around?"

I don't have a chance to react to what Ryan is saying. In the distance I can hear the wail of police sirens as other officers rush to the scene; too little, too late. Had I not responded Ryan would be lying on the cold pavement with the other two bodies. Or would he the other body? The perp could have easily shot them both and run off. With my head in the clouds I'm not watching or listening to Ryan so I'm taken by complete surprise when he leans in a kisses me. There's passion behind the kiss, a hunger. I respond with a longing I didn't know I had. This feeling scares me. My brain finally clicks into motion telling me how wrong this all is. With my feet firmly planted I shove Ryan back away from me. He stumbles and falls.

He looks up at me from where he is on the ground. "What the hell did you do that for?" I glared at him. It irritates me that he finds nothing wrong with kissing me.

"I'd like to hear the answer to that question myself," a deeper voice says from behind me.

I blanch at the sound of it. I turn to find Horatio eyeing me with suspicion. Standing beside him is Delko. Coming up behind him is Tripp. Oh goodie, just what I need. When is something good going to happen? I find it ironic that I'd rushed here in hopes of making things better, of raising Horatio's opinion of me. Now things have just gotten worse.

Delko helps Ryan up. "The perp shot me," Ryan tells him while looking in my direction.

Already well on the road to getting mad this little pebble pisses me off. I don't need him to cover for me. The evidence would prove him wrong anyway. "Idiot, I shot you," I snap.

Horatio looks down at the ground. "Speed, come with me. I think we need to have a talk."

I feel no fear as I follow him away from the scene. Once on the opposite side of the Hummer Horatio removes his sunglasses. He looks at me with troubled blue eyes. Now I feel like I've failed him in some way, and I guess I have. When am I going to win?

"Would you like to explain what's going on?" He asks in a friendly voice.

Would I like to explain how I feel? Do I want to tell him that Ryan keeps kissing me? Should I tell him that I feel like no one wants me around? "No," I reply.

He sighs. "You'll have to explain to Frank why you shot Ryan and how it came to that." There's something more, I can see it in his eyes. He looks at me with sorrow. "Under the recent events I've had time to think and I've spoken with a lot of people. I'm being told to put you on paid vacation while things sort out. So far they've left the decision up to me. After today though, I think the pressure is going to get worse."

Call it a mix of anger and pride but at that moment I came to a conclusion. I draw my gun from the holster and pull my badge from my belt. I shove them into Horatio's hands. "You won't have to worry about me anymore." With those words I climb into the Hummer and head back to the lab. I'll pick up my motorcycle, clean out my locker, and head home. Maybe now everyone will be happy that I'm gone. They can act like I died that day. They'll be happy with Ryan. They already are.


	9. Wrong Turn

**Title:** Misdemeanors

**Disclaimer:** Language, violence, angst, and slash.

**POV:** Speed

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Chapter Eight: Wrong Turn**

My cell phone rings for the umpteenth time. The caller ID identifies the number. It's Horatio. Just like it has been the last twenty-odd calls that have come through. I shut my phone off and toss it onto the couch. I don't want to talk to him. In fact, I don't want to talk to anyone. I unplug the phone in my apartment. They couldn't bear to talk to me when I was around, why should they bother now? Some friends they turned out to be. My job used to be my life. I loved going in and solving the puzzles with Delko and watching Calleigh identify a gun just by looking at a bullet. Then Ryan entered the picture. Now I might as well not even exist. I think what hurts the most is the way Horatio is acting. He's always been the kind-hearted one, the one who tries to make others feel better. He's always there for the victims. I'm the victim this time and that caring Horatio is nowhere in sight. Now I'm just the enemy.

I open the fridge door and pull out an old bottle of whiskey. I bought it the day before I got shot. I don't really care for the taste of the stuff but right now, any alcohol will do. I pop the top off and pour some into a glass. The smell is nearly sickening. With the glass in one hand and the bottle in the other I make my way over to the couch. All the lights are off and that's the way I want it to stay. I take a sip of the strong liquid. The taste if awful. Like my life.

The clock on my wall ticks away the seconds, the minutes, as I drink glass after glass of whiskey. A knock sounds at my door as I find myself half-way through glass four. The alcohol is coursing through my system. I get up and peek through the peep-hole. Ryan is standing on the other side. I look at my watch. Shift ended only twenty minutes ago. Why the hell does he have to come here? Hasn't he made things bad enough? The alcohol fuels my anger and I open the door.

"Damn, Speed, have you been drinking scotch or something?"

"Whiskey," I say before I realize that I don't have to answer him if I don't want to. This is my place after all. "What the hell do you want?"

"I came by to check on you. After this afternoon I figured you would need a bit of company," he replies.

I scoff. "And what makes you think that I want your company?"

He shrugs. "Horatio told us that you quit. Calleigh was left speechless, Delko couldn't believe it, and Alexx cried. What's going on, Speed?"

"Stop calling me Speed. Only my friends can call me that. And since I no longer have any friends…." I trail off. "Go away, Ryan. Leave me alone. You wanted my job, you got it. You wanted my friends and you got them too. Do you want my apartment? 'Cause I'll gladly go live on the street if it'll make your life easier."

He frowns. "I never wanted any of those things. I just wanted to be accepted as part of the team. I never meant for all this to happen. I told Horatio that hiring me when he did wasn't a good idea. He should have waited a week or two longer, give you some time to adjust to the idea."

"Adjust? Adjust to what? To the fact that you are what everyone wants now?"

He shakes his head. "I don't care about what they want. I care about what you want. I know that you want me gone. And if it'll make you happy, I'll leave. Just say the words and Horatio will find my resignation on his desk by tomorrow morning."

These aren't the words I'm expecting him to say. "I don't understand."

He brushes pass me into my apartment without my inviting him in. "Contrary to what you may believe, Tim, I don't want to be your enemy. I want to be your friend. I like you."

I glare at him as I close the door. All the alcohol in my system is being burned away by the anger. "Why do you have to keep kissing me?"

A blush creeps across his cheeks. "Because, like I said, I like you."

"I don't do guys," I sneer.

The conversation takes a halt while he thinks over those words and absorbs them. "Then how about I make a bet with you."

"What kind of bet?"

"Let me kiss you one last time. If you don't feel anything, I'll be gone from your life for good. I'll transfer to another state, another crime lab, far from here. What do you have to say?"

The thought of his lips on mine is enough to complete squash out the last of the alcohol in my system. Do I want him out of my life bad enough that I'll let him kiss me again? A simple kiss is all that stands between this hell and me getting my life back. A little kiss. Is it worth my pride?

"Fine, but you have to promise to leave if I don't feel anything."

He raises his hand like he's swearing in at court. "I'm a man of my word and I promise you from the depths of my heart that I will leave this life behind."

"Let's get this done and over with already," I say.

Ryan smiles as he walks over to me. I can't believe that I'm going to let him kiss me again. Ryan stops in front of me. He places his hands on my cheeks and leans forward. His lips brush against mine ever so slightly. The sensation is tickling. Then he actually kisses me. His lips touch mine with a hungry force. Much to my dismay I feel my body temperature rising. The kiss grows more passionate and I push him away.

* * *

Someone bangs on the apartment door. I roll over in bed to check the time. The glowing red lights of my alarm clock tell me that it's ten-thirty at night. A bit late for people to be making house calls. I curl-up on my bed and close my eyes to fall back asleep. A hand brushes against my bare back. 

"You should probably answer that, they sound really instant."

I sit up in bed and turn on the bedside lamp. The covers rest over my lower half, covering the fact that I'm naked. Before getting out of the bed I lean over and pluck my boxer from the floor. I slip into them. Then I turn my eyes on Ryan. He's lying in the bed, his eyes half-closed in a drowsy way.

"You had better be dressed and ready to leave before I get back in here. You hear me?"

Instead of waiting for him to answer I make my way out of my bedroom, making sure to close the door behind me. The pounding on my front door gets a bit more hectic. If they keep it up they'll not only wake-up my neighbors but they'll breakdown my door.

"Hold your horses," I mumble as I unlock the door. "What the hell is so important-"

Horatio stands on the other side of the door.

"What do you want? It's late, can't this wait until tomorrow?"

He shakes his head. "I'm sorry to be calling on you so late, Speed. But I came here to pass on some news." His troubled blue eyes lock on mine. "There was an accident earlier tonight. Calleigh and Delko had gone to a club or something. They just wanted to unwind after hearing that you walked-out. I-"

"Are they okay?"

"I'm not really sure. I haven't been to the hospital yet. Or even to the crime scene. I was on my way to bed when the call came in, when I heard it was them I rushed over here to notify you," he explains.

"Let me get dressed and we'll head over to the hospital together." They may not have been the best friends lately but I do still hold them close in my heart. They're my only family. Always my family. No matter how much they push me away. And anyway, a trip to the hospital is better than hanging around my apartment thinking about Ryan lying naked in my bed. Anything has to be better than that.


	10. Invisible

**Title:** Misdemeanors

**Disclaimer:** Language, violence, angst, and slash.

**POV:** Speed

**

* * *

Chapter Nine: Invisible**

I call Ryan's cell-phone as Horatio drives toward the hospital. When I had gone back into my bedroom to change, he had given me a questioning look. I'd held a finger to lips to tell him to stay quiet. I didn't want Horatio to know that Ryan was there. Now we are nearly to the hospital. Horatio still doesn't have any information on the conditions of Calleigh and Delko. I drum my fingers impatiently on the dashboard, waiting for Ryan to answer his phone.

Horatio glances quickly in my direction, taking his eyes off the road for just a mere second. "Give him a break, Speed, he's probably sleeping. Something that normal people do at this time of the night."

"We're not normal people, H, we've never been normal. Not with the job we do," I reply.

Ryan finally picks up his ringing phone. He sounds distant and there's music playing in the background. He better not be playing with my stereo. I tell him about the car crash and he says he'll meet us at the hospital. He mumbles on for a few seconds more about what happened earlier in the night. I cut him off and hang-up the phone. If I wanted to talk about the mistake I made, I would have brought it up.

"What's on your mind?" Horatio asks as we pull into the parking lot at the hospital.

"Nothing," I mutter. "Just tired."

"I know things have been rocky, Speed, and I'm sorry about this afternoon. I can understand you getting mad in the heat of the moment. Please, reconsider the decision to quit your job. You are a great CSI, one of the best on my team, in fact," Horatio says.

"I don't want to talk about it," I snap.

He gives me a worrying look but keeps his mouth shut. I follow him into the brick building with its white walls and tile floors. I hate the smell of hospitals. They smell like disease and blood and sterile-ness. Horatio walks up to the nurses' station and starts talking to the young woman behind the counter. I see her giving me the eye over my boss's shoulder. I look away. My eyes drift over people with blood wounds and broke bones. One guy is even holding a hand over his bleeding eye. I look in the other direction just in time to see Ryan walk through the door and head in our direction. At this point I figure it's best to just look at that floor.

"Horatio, Speedle," Ryan greets. "Not the best time for the team to be together, huh? How are they doing? Will they be okay?"

I glare at the floor. How can he act so normal, so…friendly? After the things that transpired in my apartment he acts like nothing ever happened. He sounds happy to be standing in a hospital in the middle of the night. Shouldn't he sound more worried about Calleigh and Delko? Both of them have been so overly nice to him that it's made me sick.

Horatio lightly touches my shoulder to capture my attention. A doctor has shown up to take us to see Calleigh and Delko. I trail after Horatio who is talking quietly with the young Wolfe. I feel like I shouldn't be here. This is all wrong. Nothing good happens when you end-up in the hospital. I know, I've been here before, more times than I care to count.

We enter into a room and there they are, my friends of such a long time. Friends that I feel I hardly know anymore. Delko has his right arm in a sling, but there's no cast so it can't be broken. He has a few cuts and bruises, none of them will scar though. Calleigh has a cast on her left wrist and a bandage on her cheek. Was she driving? Or was Delko driving?

"Hey," Calleigh greets in her cheerful southern accent. "You guys didn't need to come down here."

Horatio smiles softly. "We had to make sure you guys were okay."

"We'll be fine," Delko pipes up. "The only broken bones is Calleigh's wrist. I dislocated my shoulder. Other than that, it's just some minor bumps and bruises. We'll live."

I listen to them talk. Ryan starts talking about past injuries and how bad some of them were. The others chime in with their past wounds. When did a trip to the hospital become a badge of honor? To me, a trip to the hospital meant that you failed in protecting yourself. I watch the four of them, talking, smiling, and even laughing. I feel so invisible, like no one wants me here, like they can't see me. If they can't see me, then I should be able to slip out and disappear. Maybe I'll go home and burn the sheets on my bed. That would be too dramatic but throwing them away wouldn't be.

I slip out of the room and walk down the hall, my arms crossed over my chest and my eyes on the floor. Outside, in the night air of Miami I finally relax, letting my shoulders drop. I walk through the poorly lit parking lot to find the grass along the outskirts of the concrete field. The breeze is enough to keep the night from being hot and uncomfortable. The sounds of the city buzz around me but I'm able to block most of them out. What would it be like to live in the country, out in the middle of nowhere? Would there be only the sounds of the night to enter my brain?

A hand on my shoulder makes me jump. "It's just me, man," Delko says as I turn to face him.

"Something I can do for you?" I realize that I sound nasty and I don't care. My anger has been coming out a lot more than usual lately.

"Touchy, touchy," he replies, removing his hand from my shoulder. "Why did you leave back there? Somebody say something to upset you?"

"Yes…" I lie, somewhat.

"What was it, if I may ask?"

"Everything," I whisper.

"Excuse me? I hardly heard that." He leans toward me to hear better.

"I said, it was everything," the anger in my voice a little more apparent. "Every damn time that Ryan guy is around it's like I don't exist. You and Calleigh fawn over him. You two took to him like ducks take to water. And even Horatio seems to be extremely proud of him. He's not that great. He's just some lousy cop that lucked into a job in the lab."

Delko stands up straight, his eyes wide with surprise as he listens to me. "Whoa, slow down, buddy. It can't be all that bad."

"Really? How many times have you talked to me since Ryan showed up?"

"Well." I can see him mulling it over in his mind. He sighs and his shoulders drop. "I hadn't realized, Speed. I'm sorry, man. I really am. Why don't we hang out this weekend? I won't be working much anyway," he jokes.

I shake my head. "No thank you."

I turn to walk away and I hear Delko yell my name. I don't care if I'm being rude or acting like a child. People that I would have trusted my very life with have hurt me so deeply in the last few days. I can't tell if I honestly even trust them anymore. The farther away from the building I walk the better I feel. The anger slowly exits my body, leaving me tired. A cough escapes me. The second cough is worse than the first and the third causes my ribs to ache. I drop to my knees as the coughing gets even worse. My head starts to heart and my lungs ache for much needed oxygen. I feel the cool grass touch my bare arms and my cheeks as I pass out.


	11. Out of this World

**Title:** Misdemeanors

**Author Note: **Important notices on profile.

**Disclaimer:** Language, violence, angst, and slash.

**POV:** Speed

**

* * *

Chapter Ten: Out of this World**

I awake in my bed the next morning. Why and how I got here presses on my brain. I had been outside the hospital only hours ago, so says my alarm clock. I roll over to let the red numbers stare into my back. I'm troubled by trying to remember how I got home. I remember the coughing and the passing out. The shrill ringing of the phone rouses me from bed. For the umpteenth time I swear about not having a phone in my bedroom. I walk across the carpeted floors in my bare feet. I'm clad in just my boxers. I came home, changed, and got into bed? The mystery deepens. I answer the phone on the fifth ring, nothing like an annoying persistent ring.

"What?" Not the best way to answer the phone but it works.

"I'm sorry did I wake you?" Delko asks.

"Yes," I mumble.

"Oh," he says, "I'm trying to get used to how things are now. In days past you would have been up before now, to come to work. Speaking of which, it's not as much fun here without you. Last night I got to thinking, everything you said was right. I guess I just wanted to get to know the new blood in the lab, see if he was worth hanging out with, but I never expected things to go down this path."

"Shut up, Delko," I interrupted.

"Excuse me?"

I lean back against the counter. "I don't want your apology. You've only come to this conclusion because I had to point it out to you. Say what you will, but it wasn't just about getting to know the new guy. It was more than that. I'll be stopping by the lab later this afternoon to give Horatio my two week notice."

"I think you're blowing this out of proportion, man," he replies.

"I'm hanging up the phone now," I say and do just that without waiting for a reply.

Delko never mentioned bringing me home last night. He was the last person I talked to before I passed out. Why can't I remember anything after that point of time? I busy myself with making some coffee and put a piece of bread in the toaster. Reflecting on the conversation I can't believe that I actually said that I was giving my two week notice. The thought had not crossed my mind before that moment. Do I really feel like leaving the crime lab? Horatio has been an amazing boss. He does his best to help and most of the time he gives his team the benefit of the doubt. However, when it came to my recent actions it seemed to me that he was all ready to peg me guilty. What changed, besides the new recruit? The toaster pops, tearing my mind away from the troubling thoughts. In my heart I know that it's true, I'm done with the lab. It's time for me to move on.

* * *

I sit under a tree outside the crime lab, my bike parked not too far away. I can't get this feeling of fear to leave my chest. For the second time today I find myself questioning reality. For the second time today things had gone from dismal to horrible. The sun hides behind a cloud and a cool breeze stirs the leaves. There is no way to put my troubled mind at easy.

I think back to earlier in the day, after Delko's phone call. I had eaten my breakfast of one piece of toast and drank down a cup of coffee. From there I went to take a shower, to get myself ready to come here. That's all I remembered doing. I don't remember getting out of the shower or getting dressed. Never mind hoping on my bike and driving to the lab. When I had realized what happened I'd climbed off my bike, hands trembling. It all started falling into place. Finally, I know the answer to why I can't remember.

I've been blacking out.

I can only guess that it has to do with my gunshot wound. Though that's healed it's the most recent major injury that I've acquired. Maybe I'm sick and need to see a doctor again. If something is truly wrong with me I'll most likely end-up back in the hospital. No thank you. Knowing these facts makes me happy that I've decided to quit my job. I will no longer be under the watchful eye of Horatio Caine. He won't be able to say anything about my deteriorating health. Perhaps when all is said and done I'll move up north somewhere. Whatever I have can take its toll on me and can die. Right now that doesn't seem like such a bad idea. My world's been turned upside down and I can't take much more of this shit.

With renewed strength, from the anger that continues to run through my veins, I march into the lab. The receptionist is taken by surprise. The look on her face is a mixture of fear and alarm. I see her reaching for the phone when I glance over my shoulder. I breeze passed the Trace Lab and Ballistics. All is quiet, no one is around. They're all most likely at crime scene or picking up a late lunch. Horatio will be in his office, I can sense it.

When I reach the door to his office I knock once, wait a second and just sort of barge right on in. He looks up; there is no surprise on his face. That damn receptionist ruined my shocking entrance.

"Are you okay, Timmy?" His voice is calm and collected, like nothing could possibly be wrong.

"Fine and dandy, H. I just wanted to drop in and tell you that I've made up my mind," I reply.

He frowns. "Made-up your mind about what?"

"Right here and right now I'm giving you my two week notice, I'm done with this job and I'm done with this lab," I say bluntly.

There's the surprised-look I want. "Are you sure this is what you want? Take a few more days off and think about this, Speed. You and I have worked closely together for many years. You were the first one I wanted on my team. This job is in your blood."

I shake my head. "Nope, I've made up my mind."

"You always were a bit headstrong," he sighs. "If this is what you truly want then I won't stand by and stop you. Though I can honestly say that the lab won't be the same without you."

I didn't want to stick around any longer for fear that he might change my mind. I said my goodbye and hastily made my way out of the lab. The sun is hanging a smidge lower in the sky. The night life of Miami will be out soon and people will be partying. They'll be listening to music, going to clubs, drinking alcohol, and just having a grand ole time. It's part of the charm of this deadly city. Tonight I feel like living it up. Tonight I want to be one of the millions of people who stay out all night long enjoying what the nightlife has to offer. It's not like I have a job to go to in the morning.

I step out onto the sidewalk and hum a little song to myself as I walk along. I wonder how long before Horatio will tell the others of my departure and as soon as the thought crosses my mind I no longer care. I'm finally free of the hell this world has been showing me. Tomorrow I'll start looking for places to move to; maybe this time I'll choose a place that isn't so hot. I guess I really wasn't paying attention to the world around me. I've been warned that I do that too often, getting lost in my mind. This time I truly regretted my actions. Because this time, when I stepped off the curb it hit me.

That fiery red sports car.


	12. Pain of Life

**Title:** Misdemeanors

**Disclaimer:** Language, violence, angst, and slash.

**POV:** Speed

**

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Pain of Life**

I don't remember much about the trip to the hospital. In fact, I only remember bits and pieces of the car hitting me. It hurt like hell, that's easy to remember. When it hit me, did I fall to the pavement or did I go up onto the hood? The first thought that ran through my mind was something akin to, 'I can't believe it actually hit me'. My second thought was about all the bad luck that seems to be following me around lately. Life is a pain.

I sit on a bench down by the beach on a sunny day. No idea how long ago the accident went down, really don't care either. Resting on the bench beside me is a cane. My left leg has been screwed up since that damn car ran me over. I haven't talked with anyone from the lab in roughly a week, I think, time is sketchy. I think my brain is trying to hide from me what really happened in the last few days, or weeks, or whatever. I've read numerous reports on how extremely traumatic events can be blocked out. What better to block out than being hit by a car?

The breeze coming in off the ocean feels wonderful on my skin. All the people on the beach having fun almost ruin the oddly peaceful sound of the waves coming ashore. Maybe I'll spend the rest of my life sitting here on the bench, enjoying the sun and the surf. If only it didn't get so damn hot here. I run a hand over the ugly scar on my left arm; the skin is still that freshly-healed pink. I close my eyes, completely relaxing into the weathered old wood of the bench. Instantly my mind seized with fear.

_I step off the sidewalk, not even bothering to look at the traffic buzzing along the streets. I only take two steps away from the curb when I hear the squeal of tires. I see the car to my left, trying to stop or swerve, trying to do anything to avoid hitting me but it's too late. The impact forces me up onto the hood of the red sports car and I slide off as soon as the car stops moving. The instant pain is nearly unbearable. My brain tries to comprehend what the hell just happened and I have to keep telling myself to breathe. The pavement underneath my body feels like a foreign substance. Around me I hear people shouting and a woman screaming. The driver of the car keeps repeating the same thing over and over again like a broken record. He's sorry that he hit me; he didn't see me step off the sidewalk. I did step out in front of him; it's all very understandable to me. I'm the one who messed up._

_Someone kneels down beside me. I can't get the words out of my mouth. I can't tell him that I'm an officer and Horatio has my badge. It's ironic; I'd almost been hit by a car just days ago in the pouring rain. No, the damn car had to hit me on a sunny day. Of course, it wasn't actually the same car but it was the principle of the matter. I pray for Horatio to catch wind of the accident. The lab isn't that far away. More tires squeal and the sound is rather deafening to the ears when you're so close to the ground. Doors slam on the newly arrived vehicle. Has the cavalry finally come? Why didn't I hear any sirens?_

"_What the hell is going on here?" My heart flutters as I hear a male voice I recognize._

"_I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hit him; he just stepped out in front of me. There wasn't time to stop," the driver pleads._

"_You hit someone?" Calleigh asks._

"_He's over there, in the middle of that circle of people," the driver replies._

"_Move, get out of my way," Delko says as he pushes through the crowd of people. Ah, the great American bystander, they love their action. I hear the shuffling of feet as the crowd parts to let him through. He must finally see me because I hear the sharp intake of breath. "Oh shit, Speed."_

_I see him kneel beside me. I try to tell him I hurt like hell but the words still won't come. I think it's the blood in my throat that's making it hard to talk. I feel him slid his fingers between mine as he takes a firm hold of my hand. For seem reason this all seems to be happening in slow motion._

"_Calleigh, call Horatio and get him to bring Alexx down here. They aren't too far away, maybe she can help him," Delko yells. "Ryan, you call for an ambulance and tell them we have an officer down."_

"_Oh my god," the driver nearly whispers. "He's an officer? I hit an officer…."_

_By now I'm getting tired of laying on the ground with everyone standing over me. It makes a person feel extremely small and insignificant. I give Delko's hand a squeeze and he gives me a troubling reassuring smile. The blood is slowly pooling in my throat. I feel the urge to couch but suppress it. I know that Calleigh is here; I don't want her to see me like this. I don't want any of them to have to see me like this. I close my eyes as I remember how they looked when I got shot. They nearly lost me that time. Do I have the strength to fight through this or will being hit by a car be my undoing?_

_I hear the siren of an approaching emergency vehicle. It'll be Horatio; the lab is so terribly close. I had just been there, had just talked to him. That conversation seems like it was years ago. Delko places two fingers over my wrist to feel for a pulse. He must think that I'm letting go. Maybe I am. The blood in my throat is getting to be too much. I start coughing and my entire body screams in pain. I squeeze Delko's hand as the pain passes through._

"_Good to know you're still here and that you still have some strength," he says to me._

"_How is he doing Delko?" I hear Horatio ask. He walks into my view, standing behind Delko. My boss, my friend; agony is present in his eyes. We've been here before, only there was a hole in my chest that time._

"_I think he's choking on his own blood, H," Delko replies._

"_Oh, honey," Alexx says as she kneels on my other side. "I can only do so much for him. I'm not used to working on the living." She cuts my shirt open- I happen to like the shirt- and gently presses on my ribs. I must wince or something because she apologizes and instantly removes her hands. Two minutes later she seems satisfied with her work. "His leg looks like it might be broken. And I'm going to guess that he's got broken ribs, one of which may have punctured a lung, given the blood in his mouth; there has to be at least one internal injury."_

_How cheery._

_I close my eyes again. Straining to hear that sounds of the coming ambulance. In the distance I hear the wail of the siren. My salvation. When I open my eyes again I find that Horatio has replaced Delko at my side._

"_Tim, squeeze my hand if you remember what we talked about today," he says. I squeeze. "It's erased from the record until you get better, you understand me?" I try to nod and the pain takes the opportunity to seize me again. I feel as though someone is pricking me with a thousand needles all at once, multiplied by twenty. "We're here," H says as I give his hand another squeeze. I don't want to die. Maybe human contact will keep me rooted in the world of the living. But I hardly doubt it._

_I can feel myself slipping away. The darkness sits on the fringes, waiting for that one second of complete weakness to wrap itself around me and take my spirit away. The ambulance finally reaches the scene. People part like the Red Sea for Moses to let the EMT's through. _

_Alexx kisses my cheek. "Don't you end up on my table, Timothy. You hear me?"_

_I must have blacked out because the next thing I know I'm being loaded into the back of the bus. Calleigh is crying, wrapped in the arms of Ryan. Alexx stands beside Delko, holding his hand for comfort. I see the tears in their eyes, all of them worried once again about losing me. Horatio climbs into the ambulance to ride to the hospital. He still has a firm hold on my hand. I count myself lucky to have so many caring friends. Too bad it comes down to this for us all to realize that we need one another._

_My life fucking sucks._


	13. Ghostly Wanderings

**Title:** Misdemeanors

**Disclaimer: **Violence, language, angst, slash.

**POV: **Speed

**

* * *

Chapter Twelve: Ghostly Wanderings**

I walk down the corridors of the lab. For once I was happy to get by the receptionist without her seeing me. I shouldn't be here and Horatio will have a fit when he does see me. But I don't care about that. My plan is for him to see me, see that I'm okay to come back to work. Those that I said before the accident, I hope he'll let me take them back. He'll understand that I was thinking properly. This job is my life, my very reason for existing. There is no greater joy in the world than seeing that smile on someone's face when you know that you've helped them. Maybe that's why Horatio has been at this job for so long.

The accident is behind me now. The whole dispute with Ryan can be worked out. Nearly dying opens so many doors. I feel like a cat with seven lives left and I want to spend those lives helping others by putting the criminals behind bars. I'm stronger now then I've ever been. Before coming into the lab I threw my cane in the trash. It screamed weakness to everyone who saw me. I'm not weak. I'm not someone who needs coddling.

As I pass by the Trace Lab I hear the voices inside and catch my name. I ease the door open a crack to listen to the conversation inside.

"Tell me, how did Speed end up in this job?" Ryan asks innocently.

Calleigh sighs. "I'll tell you the truth, I really don't know. Timmy liked keeping his past a secret. Part of me always thought he was running from something, or maybe someone."

"You're hiding stuff. You know more than you're letting on," Ryan accuses.

Calleigh rests her hands on the table. "Don't let this get out, but one of his friends died in an accident. Personally, I don't think he ever got over the loss, and I think that's what he ran from."

Ryan lets silence fall into the conversation. Normally I'm not too happy when people pick me as their conversation topic. The new me, though, thinks that this could be interesting. There's a chance that I could learn something, learn about how these guys see me.

"Do you think he took the job because he failed to help his friend?" Ryan finally says.

"It's a possibility. Does it really matter why he took the job? He was great at it," Calleigh says softly. "There was a special bond between him and Horatio, something that Delko and I have never had with the boss. Those two were extremely close."

Ryan puts a sample of some liquid into a machine for tests before speaking again. "I thought he was closer to Delko?"

"How to phrase this? What Horatio and Speed had was like a father/son-mutual goal-colleague thing. With Delko, it was always about girls and sports; more buddy-buddy. Why all the interest, Ryan?"

He shrugged. "I'm just trying to understand the great Timothy Speedle, that's all."

I ease the door closed, making sure that they don't hear it. I find it troubling that they're already talking about me in past tense. Has Horatio already told them that I quit my job? This thought ways heavily on me; if he's told them than he probably won't even fathom giving me my job back. Seems I may have fucked up big time. I let Horatio down and never thought about his feelings in this whole matter. What kind of friend am I?

And why the hell does Ryan have to go prying into my past? It's bad enough that I slept with the guy that one time, something I still haven't been able to shake. Love never made sense to me; things shouldn't be any different now. Ryan held some sort of fascination that attracted me to him like a moth to the light, and yet, I despise his being here, in this lab that has become my home. I'll have to make the extra effort to act nice to him, especially when Horatio is around. I can throw that in as a bargaining chip if H doesn't want to give me another chance. I move on from outside the Trace Lab shaking my head. What the hell am I thinking? Of course H will give me my job back. That's just the kind of caring person he is, and it wouldn't be bad of me to take advantage of that this one time.

When I tear my gaze away from the shiny tile floor I see Delko coming in my direction. His face is red and his eyes clouded with tears. There's blood on his shirt. I recognize the look in his eyes, a life was lost and he feels hopeless. I've been there, it's a horrible feeling. I flash him a sympathetic smile.

"Hey man, what's with the tears? Whatever happened to never showing the world your weaknesses?" I ask, bringing up the motto we often whispered to each other at particularly bad crime scenes.

He ignores me and breezes into the locker room. I frown. I can understand not wanting to talk about the issue at hand but did he have to be so rude? With a shrug of my shoulders I follow him with the loyalty of friend.

"Delko, buddy," I call as I open the locker room door.

A loud crash resounds throughout the otherwise silent room. Standing in the doorway I see that Delko has thrown the long wooden bench into the lockers. Now he's sitting on the floor, his head in his hand, his shoulders shaking as he cries.

"Who died?" I inquire. "Or did you lose a bet with Tripp again?"

Through the sobs he mumbles a name that never reaches my ears. Feeling uncomfortable I shuffle my feet. Delko never looks up, never says another word. I figure he just wants to be alone and turn to leave. Friends are good to have around when the world crumbles under you but sometimes, silence is the best healer. Not to disturb him, I make sure that the door is closed quietly.

My next stop is Horatio's office. The door is open so I just walk right in without saying anything. The boss is on the phone and he doesn't look to happy. In fact, he's almost a mirror image of Delko, only with a little more self composure. Various newspapers are scattered across his desk top. I figure that maybe he's looking over a headline of someone who died, the same person that Delko is mourning. He wouldn't mind me reading them while he finished his phone call, as long as I am quiet.

I lean over his desk and my heart nearly stops. The big bold type screams out at me. A paper from two days ago proclaims, _Cop Hit By Car Dies at Hospital._ Another one says, _Life Cut Short for CSI._ The paper from today catches my eye in particular, _Lab Mourns Loss of Friend._ Were the cop and the CSI the same person? Or were they two separate people that Horatio had met in his long career? I moved around the desk to read the story from today's paper.

_Late Wednesday afternoon a member of law enforcement had his life taken away when he suffered major injuries after being hit by a car. The driver of the car claims that the officer stepped out into the road without looking. Various cameras in the area help to support this claim. Sources say that Timothy Speedle, a CSI with the Miami-Dade Crime Lab, had been shot late last year and recovered from the near-death experience with a renewed interest in life. Two of his colleagues, Calleigh Duquense and Eric Delko, came across the scene on their return to the lab. Make-shift life saving techniques were used to keep Mr. Speedle responsive until the ambulance came. He later died in the hospital from internal injuries made worse by a nasty infection._

I stop reading before the article goes on to tell about my career achievements and most likely relay quotes from people who knew me. Now it all made sense to me. Why Ryan was so interested in my past and why they spoke of me in past tense. The reason Delko was crying. The reason why Horatio hasn't said a word to me even though he'd hung-up the phone. I'm dead. My heart breaks as I realize just how much I failed everyone.


	14. My Goodbyes

**Title:** Misdemeanors

**Disclaimer: **Violence, language, angst, slash.

**POV: **Speed

**

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: My Goodbyes**

I sink into the chair across from Horatio. I push aside the surprise that I'm able to actually sit on the chair and not sink through the chair. Horatio shuffles the newspapers on his desk before picking up a framed picture on his desk. I recognize the frame and despite my shock I manage a smile. I know what picture he's looking at, that day was a happy one for all of us. We'd gone to a charity function to raise money for a children's hospital. Calleigh and Alexx spent the entire night commenting on how dashing Delko, Horatio, and I looked in our tuxes. Tripp made sure to get a picture of the five of us together. For some reason H always liked that picture. Maybe because for once we were all smiling.

"Speed," he whispers.

"I'm right here, Horatio. I know that you can't see me and I know that you can't hear me, but that doesn't mean I've stopped existing. My body's just gone, my spirit will always be here," I instantly say. I sound like an over-read sympathy card. "You shouldn't miss me, and please don't think of me in a bad way. You made me into the CSI that I was, remember that. Calleigh and Delko are still here, looking to you for guidance, they always will be. As much as I hate the idea, Ryan is here too, looking up to you. We've always looked up to you, Horatio. I just wish I could have told you. Now it's too late." As I mutter that last sentence I feel the tears trying to free themselves from my eyes. Now is not the time to cry. I leave Horatio in his office with a soft smile on his face.

My next stop is the morgue to see Alexx. When I get there she's washing down the metal slab. My eyes drift around the room, wondering if there have ever been any other ghosts in here. Across the room from us is a body covered by a sheet laying on a gurney. I don't even like to think that there is a possibility that that's my body. I turn my full attention to Alexx. Who knows how long my spirit will hang around here?

"Fastest scalpel in the east," I begin. "I hope that you weren't the one to do my autopsy. I can't even begin to imagine the pain of such a task. Horatio would have gotten someone else, unless of course you demanded to do it." I shake my head. "Those aren't pleasant thoughts, Alexx. I just wanted to drop-in and say thank you. You may not be aware of it but there were days when I felt like someone cared for me deeply all because you said 'good morning'. I hope you never lose that caring touch. The world needs people like you, Alexx." Not like me, I think. Feeling I've said all that I can I move onto my next target.

Ryan is sitting in the break room enjoying a soda and staring off into space. I shake my head in ignorance. "Why the hell are you in here? Shouldn't you be comforting Calleigh or Alexx?" I chastise. "I never really cared for you, Ryan, never got that chance. How Horatio expected me to like you when it felt like I was being replaced is beyond me. And you want to know what really ticks me off?" I plick a crumb across the table. Ryan doesn't even notice it as it flies across the table. "I was right, you are replacing me. Take care of them, Ryan. Be a better friend than I was," I finish.

I find Calleigh in the gun safe, getting ready to fire off some pistol I don't recognize. This has always been her favorite place. Even after Hagan committed suicide here. We all have to overcome our demons. Now I've gone and given her another one.

"You probably think that everyone is leaving you, huh? I'm so sorry, Calleigh. I wish you hadn't have been there," I console. "It's going to take time to get those images out of your head. Try thinking of me in better times. Back before I got shot and everything seemingly fell apart. Don't let yourself get so depressed that you hide that wonderful smile from the world. I may be gone but you still have Delko, and now you have Ryan. You guys will do just fine without me. You'll see."

I turn and leave as she aims the barrel at the target. They all go about their lives like I'm not gone, like I'm only on vacation. Though that thought hurts it does make things a bit easier. At least they aren't letting my death keep them from catching criminals. I'd feel horrible if they didn't have the courage to work. No one else in this world ever need to suffer because of what happened. And now I have to go visit the greatest friend anyone could ever ask for.

Delko is still in the locker room when I breeze in, the door closing softly behind me. I see no reason in startling him. He's no longer sitting on the floor. Now he's leaning against the locker, his arms folded over his chest, his head hanging low.

"Why'd you go away, man? Why'd you have to die?" He mumbles.

"It's not like I did it on purpose. Believe me, if I knew that it would come to this, I wouldn't have even left the house that day," I whisper, knowing full well that he can't hear me. "I didn't want to die, Delko. I'd rather be standing outside, the sun covering me in its warmth. It's cold on the other side."

He shakes his head. "I should have listened to you. Maybe talked with Horatio. I knew that you were depressed. We could have helped you. But I failed to do anything. You're dead and I have no one to blame but myself."

"Shut up," I snap. "My death was no fault of yours. I'm the idiot that let things get out of hand and just walked out into the street. I got myself run over by that damn car. You couldn't have helped me, I wasn't seeing clearly."

He doesn't say another word. The two of us just stand there. Him mourning my death, and me watching my friend suffer. I clench me fists in frustration and feel the tears running down my cheeks. I never wanted to die. I just wanted the time to figure out where life was going to take me. With a heavy heart I leave the lab behind and step out into the sun. The warmth of its rays don't touch my ghostly skin. I'm half-way down the sidewalk before I realize where I'm going; I'm heading back to the scene of the accident. Cars buzz up and down both sides of the road as though the accident never happened. The only sign is a small pile of flowers along the curb, placed there by some kind-hearted soul.

I sit on the curb, my head in my hands, wondering where it all went wrong. I let pride get in the way when Horatio hired Ryan. I had been dead set on the fact that Ryan was replacing me; now he really would be. I feel so lonely. Lonelier than I felt when I was alive. As I sit on the curb I sense a growing conclusion, like some big event waits just around the corner. There's pressure on my chest and a beep in my ear that's growing in intensity….


	15. Ramblings of a Mad Man

**Title:** Misdemeanors

**Disclaimer: **Violence, language, angst, slash.

**POV: **Speed

**

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: Ramblings of a Mad Man**

I hear the faintest sounds of mumbling voices. The beeping in my ears has hit a steady frequency. A few minutes ago I lost sight of the road by which I sat and all the people walking around on the sidewalk. Fingers gently brush against my arm, creating a tickling sensation. Someone or something is able to touch me. I struggle to open my eyes and I'm confused when I do. The light around me is bright and everything is white. Has my spirit let go, after going back to the place where my life began to end? Does that mean I'm in heaven seeing the bright light people are always talking about?

A hand firmly grasps mine. "You have no idea how happy I am to see those chocolate brown eyes gazing into the world again."

I turn to my right to see blond-haired Calleigh standing there, looking at me with a smile that could light-up Vegas at night. "What…the…"

She gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. "The doctor said you might have some trouble remembering what happened when you woke up. Do you want me to fill you in?" She asks sweetly.

"Where?" Is the only word I can manage to get out.

"We're in the hospital; you got hit by a car two days ago, Timmy. Turns out that was a good thing," she says in a voice that is way to chipper.

"How?" My voice is hoarse and comes out a mere whisper. The smells of the sterile room begin to fill my brain with unhappy memories.

"Well, the bullet that they left lodged by your spine? Seems they really should have taken that out. Had I taken a closer look at the bullet instead of the gun I would have seen right away that the one in you should be removed. The bullets are sort of old and happen to have a high lead consistency," she drawls. "Now, usually it takes a while for the lead to have any affect on the system, about a few years should have gone by before it started showing up in lethal amounts in your system. However, you'd recently had surgery and for some reason thought it would be fun to nearly get hit by a car while playing in the rain..."

"Calleigh…"

My pitiful cry of her name stops her from talking. The detective in her realizes that I just want her to get to the bottom line. "To make a long story short, you had a nasty infection that got worse with the lead. Then you got hit by the car, of course."

"How bad?"

"There's a hairline fracture to your knee and you took one hell of a hit on the head. A few ribs were broken; one just slightly punctured a lung. The last two days you were in a coma. The doctors kept telling us that you would be fine if you would just wake-up. So," she sighs, "what took you so long to come back?"

"I died," I reply bluntly.

The smile disappears from her face and the light in her eyes dims. Even her grip on my hand lightens a little. "What are you saying, Tim?"

I let go of her hand. "Nothing. I'm tired." With that I turn onto my side, feel the pain shoot throughout my body, and do my best to ignore it well I pretend to fall asleep. I hear the door close a few minutes later as Calleigh leaves me alone with the thoughts in my head.

Had that all been a dream? Everything had felt so real. The feeling of emptiness and despair still sit on the edge of my heart, waiting to jump back in and make me feel awful. The stories told by the newspapers were believable in the fact that I had died here, in this hospital, just shortly after arriving. Why would I have a dream that left me shivering? That left me afraid to even talk to someone I considered family? Had my mind finally given me what I had been wanting for the last few weeks? I kept telling myself that they would be fine without. That they wouldn't even miss me if I just up and walked away. Now I know differently. They are my friends; they need me as much as I need them. Too bad it came to this, but at least I still have time to right things. At least, I hope that I do.

The door opens again. I'm still trying to figure out what's happening so I don't turn over to see who it is; instead, I continue to pretend I'm sleeping. The air around me shifts with the movement of a human. I can feel their presence as they walk around the bed and stop in front of me, most likely studying my face.

"I know you're faking it, Timothy," Horatio says quietly. "I'm content with leaving you alone for now but you gave Calleigh a pretty good scare and I want to know why."

I open my eyes to gaze upon the red-haired blue-eyed man that is my boss. Over the years he has become more than that; he's become a mentor, an older brother, a close friend, and even a father figure. How could I believe that he would just trade me in for someone else? The history between us was nothing anyone could erase. We'd always had each other's backs. And now I'd gone and let him down.

"Sorry," I mumble. My voice has grown a little stronger.

"For what?" He asks me innocently.

"Letting you down like I did." Shame fills my voice and makes me feel even worse.

He smiles that trademark smile of his. The one he uses on the victims to put them at ease and makes them believe fully in the promises he makes them; promises that he always keeps. "You've never let me done, Tim, never."

I roll onto my back, my siding having gone numb with pain. Calleigh had mentioned something about broken ribs. Now I guess I know which ones were broken. "The whole thing Ryan was uncalled for, everything I've done lately has been uncalled for."

Horatio pulls an old wooden chair close to the bed and sits in it. "It's partially my fault. I should have given you more warning about Ryan's new job. The department thought it would be best, since you had suffered a recent set back. I let you fly off the hand because I saw the way you were hurting. The last thing I really wanted to do was to sit you down and yell at you."

I try to laugh but it comes out more like a choking sound. "Next time, just yell at me, please?"

"There won't be a next time, hopefully. I fear they'd have me fire you," he frowns. "Anyway. What is it that you said to Calleigh to scare her so?"

I chew my lip. Can I trust Horatio with the dreams that plagued my mind? I know he'll never tell another soul but what if he thinks I'm unfit for my job and sends me to see a shrink? There's only one way to find out. "I died, H, in the last two days I've been dead. Only, I was gone for one day."

"Please make that a little clearer, you've lost me already," he says.

"Calleigh said that I have been out of it for two days. Well, in my mind it was only a day, time really wasn't present there though, and I was dead. I'd gone to the lab to talk to you about getting my job. You had newspapers all over you desk talking about me, the CSI who died at the hospital after being hit by a car. So I said my goodbyes to everyone and returned to the scene of the crime. Only, when I got there everything became fuzzy. That's when I woke up here," I explained. Let him think me crazy, at least I've gotten it off my chest. At least now I can get a second opinion.

"Sounds to me like your mind was trying to sort out the events of the accident and got them mixed up the thoughts of your depression. Trust me," he says, "you're very much alive."

He stands to leave, mumbling something about me needing real rest, and that I shouldn't pretend to sleep. He gives my hand a gentle pat, telling me that I still have a job at the lab when I get better. Seems he never told anyone about the conversation we had.

"H," I call when he's standing by the door, "how are the others?"

"Happy to know that you've woken up. I think Delko might give you the yelling that you need. He's been pretty upset. Even Ryan has been quiet and distant these past two days," he replies.

Once the room is empty again I settle in for some much needed work. My brain is still confused, still trying to figure every thing out. I'm happy to be alive. I'm happy to have a job at the lab. But most of all, I'm happy that I still have friends and knowing that they were there all along.


	16. Fresh Beginnings

**Title:** Misdemeanors

**Disclaimer: **Violence, language, angst, slash.

**POV: **Speed

**

* * *

Chapter Fifteen: Fresh Beginnings**

I sit in my apartment flipping through the channels. Nothing good is ever on TV during the afternoon. How I can't wait to return to work next week. By then I should be healed enough to at least work in the lab. It'll probably be another month before H lets me out in the field. And when he does, I have a feeling I'm going to have him as my babysitter. I can't really complain though, things could have ended much worse. That car accident could have actually killed me, instead of me just dreaming that it did. It had taken me a week to sort everything out with my friends. Delko did give me quite the lecture and afterwards we went out with Calleigh to a bowling alley. Why we went bowling when both of them knew full-well that I couldn't pick-up a bowling ball was beyond me.

That left me one person to sort things out with and he's been avoiding me like I'm the black plague. How do I fix problems that don't even begin to make sense to me? I loathed Ryan when I first met him. However, there has always been some sort of attraction to him. And from the way he's been kissing me I would guess that the feelings are mutual. We did sleep together that one time. My feelings about that night have always been mixed. Part of me felt like I'd won the lottery, while the other half crawled into a dark hole.

Giving up on the TV I throw the remote onto the coffee table. Boredom is going to drive me insane. I'm a scientist and I need stimulation. I climb off the couch like a slug and plod over to the bookshelf. There has to be some hidden treasure here that I've over-looked so many times before. I shuffle through the stack of Forensic Journals that lay on the floor. The subscription to the magazine cost me an arm and a leg but was well worth it. Too bad I've already read all the magazines in my possession. None of the books look interesting either. I could always try a movie but than I would want popcorn and I just don't feel like eating. Finally, I return to the couch and stare at the black screen of the turned-off TV.

I must doze off because the next thing I know someone is banging on my door. I jump off the couch, eager to have something to do.

I open the door to find a surprise. "Ryan? What are you doing here?"

He brushes into the apartment, not even waiting for me to invite him in. "I came to see you. I've noticed that things between you, Calleigh, and Delko have been fixed. But you left me out. Again."

I close the door before eyeing him. "Are you kidding me? You're the one avoiding me."

"I didn't want to bother you," he shrugs.

I remember the promise I made myself in the hospital. Since Horatio had been so nice to let me keep my job I promised to at least make an effort to be nicer to Ryan. Right now that's looking pretty easy. My heart feels like jumping through my chest and I fight back the urge to smile. Never look too eager.

"Sorry, Ryan, for everything I've said and done since you joined the team. I've been dealing with a lot of shit lately and I was wrong to take it out on you," I come right out and say. "You didn't deserve any of it. You're a nice guy and probably an okay CSI," I joke.

He smiles, easing the tension from the room. "I'm a damn fine CSI, Tim Speedle. I haven't exactly been the best person. I only made matters worse. Probably shouldn't have kissed you those few times but I kept getting confused. Are our signals getting mixed?"

I sat back down on the couch. "Yes, I believe they are getting crossed. Don't get me wrong, Ryan, I like you but I think we should just be friends for now."

He sat down beside me. "That's completely doable. Friendships can turn into more, though. Would you be fine if that happened?"

Now the answer to this question took some considering. Love rarely came into my life, unless it was the love of friends and family. I have a very supportive family and close friends. I have an amazing, fulfilling job. All that's really missing is that special person to love. Personally, I always thought I would fall in love with a girl, get married and have a few kids. The perfect picture, just leave out the little house with the white picket fence, that's not my style. No one ever takes into count what their heart wants when they think of the perfect marriage. If I listen to my heart and it says that Ryan is the one for me, then that's where I'll go.

"You know," I say slowly, "yes, I think I could live with that, let's see what happens before we make decisions."

"Than it's agreed no more competition or jokes at the lab," Ryan states.

I laugh. "Oh no, I'm still going to ride your ass at work, Wolfe. We may be on the way to being friends but I'm still your superior and I will make sure that you're doing your job right."

He smiles and chuckles. "And here I thought I'd have to watch out for Horatio. Guess I'm finally going to get to see the great Timothy Speedle everyone talks about."

"Only Horatio calls me Timothy," I remark, punching him in the shoulder.

We let the conversation die down. Ryan mutters something about the crap they show on TV during the afternoons. Taking a stab in the dark I ask him if he wants to maybe go to the beach. It's our day off and we really should enjoy the time. Much to my surprise he thinks it's a great idea. But as we're heading out the door my pager goes off and his sounds the alarm just seconds later. So much for the free day. Crime never stops in Miami. Not even when you're in the process of making your life right.

**Fin**


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